I Need A Place For My Head
by Redaura
Summary: *UPDATED* due to demand. *g*. Sarah goes all bitter on the Goblin King in her thoughts due to mild harassment. It's a SONG FIC, Linken Parks 'A Place For My Head.' Tell me if it makes any sense, and of cause, if you enjoyed reading it!
1. Chapter 1.

I Need a Place For My Head.  
  
  
  
I watch how the  
  
Moon sits in the sky in the dark night  
  
Shining with the light from the sun  
  
The sun doesn't give life to the moon to assuming  
  
The moon's going to owe it one  
  
It is so dark out here. It does make one think of what you did for me. I admit, I was a spoiled brat, but you're not much better. How good a king are you anyway? Your Labyrinth is a mess, and so is your castle. You are a bully. I bet having me in your Labyrinth gave you a real kicks.  
  
It makes me think of how you act to me you do  
  
Favours and then rapidly you just  
  
Turn around and start asking me about  
  
Things you want back from me  
  
You said you'd done it all for me. But if you had you wouldn't have asked for so much. 'Love me.' How do I know love? I've never been in love. 'Fear me.' That one is easy, I'd be afraid of you beating on me if I displeased your majestic wrath.  
  
I'm sick of the tension sick of the hunger  
  
Sick of you acting like I owe you this  
  
Find another place to feed your greed  
  
While I find a place to rest  
  
You completely destroyed my little sanctuary of sanity I'd created myself, whilst acting it out in the park. 'If you know peoples dreams you can control them.' Is that what this is about?  
  
  
  
I want to be in another place  
  
It's paths twist and turn. They aren't straight, nor straight forward. They wind and deceive, twist and turn till back is forward and left is up. It is difficult to navigate, but it can be done, with help. Like my heart.  
  
I hate when you say you don't understand  
  
When asked if you understood you didn't answer. "I have to save Toby!" don't you understand? Your Labyrinth is an extension of you, nothing else. Who could hope to claim it?  
  
(You'll see it's not meant to be)  
  
How could I, at fifteen know what I wanted to do with the rest of my life? How could I know more than you look so fine? I don't even know /you/. You're a mystery, a sexy mystery but could I have a life with you? Could you stand to watch my mortal flesh age and wither while you stay in your eternal childishness?  
  
I want to be in the energy, not with the enemy  
  
I want. I want to be with you. We could make a go of it, see if we are meant to be, instead of stepping and dancing around each other's pain, our tears that have frozen with time.  
  
A place for my head  
  
I used to have such a great place for my head. It had life and meaning, love and romance. Sunsets and dragons, knights and fair princes, and the bady was bad, and could not possibly be pitied and loved.  
  
  
  
Maybe someday I'll be just like you and  
  
Step on people like you do and run  
  
Away the people I thought I knew  
  
I bet you feel so powerful with your whip saying "Yes, the Bog!" in that tone of voice. Do you like your voice? It is ever occur to you that it could be as much of a turn off as turn on? Would you chuck me in the Bog if you tired of me? I know I would, if I had the power.  
  
I remember back then who you were  
  
You used to be calm used to be strong  
  
Used to be generous but you should've known that you'd  
  
Wear out your welcome  
  
Generous, you reckoned you where generous. A repeated question to be answered: how long would it have lasted? Again, are you just playing, with a long string of girls and boys, or is it just I that you want?  
  
now you see  
  
How quiet it is all alone  
  
Should that be how quiet I'm finding it? I never knew what it was to miss. Everything is tame now. How can I get excited about mundane things when I know there's something so much more exciting and real out there, below ground?  
  
I'm so  
  
Sick of the tension sick of the hunger  
  
Sick of you acting like I owe you this  
  
Find another place to feed your greed  
  
While I find a place to rest I'm so  
  
Sick of the tension sick of the hunger  
  
Sick of you acting like I owe you this  
  
Find another place to feed your greed  
  
While I find a place to rest  
  
You leave so much /feeling/ behind when you spy on me with your crystal balls. I like the sock theory, and the crystal balls are to compensate for what you lack. 'Did everything for me.' Isn't that sweet of you to say so, but there's no such thing as a free lunch.  
  
I want to be in another place  
  
I hate when you say you don't understand  
  
(You'll see it's not meant to be)  
  
I want to be in the energy, not with the enemy  
  
A place for my head  
  
As I said before, I used to have this wonderful place in my head to play, and I was only bothered when I had to come out of my place and baby-sit, do school work and all other unfantastical jobs.  
  
You try to take the best of me  
  
Go away  
  
Who would be the slave?  
  
You try to take the best of me  
  
Go away  
  
What do you take me for? Obviously not a lot if you thought I'd just let you harm what I love.  
  
You try to take the best of me  
  
Go away  
  
You wanted my love, or so you said. You twist words like the Labyrinth twists paths. King of the Goblins. King of the Labyrinth. King of all Charm. That wasn't in the book.  
  
  
  
You try to take the best of me  
  
I'm just a dreamer, if you take my dreams and put them in a glass cage what is left of me?  
  
Go away  
  
Leave Toby please.  
  
|I want to be in another place | |I hate when you say you don't understand | |(You'll see it's not meant to be) | |I want to be in the energy, not with the enemy | |A place for my head |  
  
If I were to be with you, I wouldn't want an eternal enemy to fight a daily battle throughout the endless time of Fae.  
  
Shut up  
  
Yeah, shut up and listen to what I really want, what I really dream.  
  
  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth, Jareth or Sarah. The lyrics are Linken Parks 'A Place for My Head' and I think you'll recognise the David Bowie lyrics scattered in here from the film. The phrase 'if you know peoples dreams you can control them' is from a book 'The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents' by Terry Pratchett.  
  
  
  
Do you think that was okay? Review and TELL ME! 


	2. Chapter 2.

Sarah slammed the stop on her sleek hi-fi. She cast her searching gaze around the room. There was nothing there except what she had strategically placed in her expensive penthouse apartment. Not a thing was out of place. She could feel his gaze burning like all the acid and flame on and above earth. She knew who it was, she sort of knew why but she could never hope to fathom what emotion daily clad her body.  
  
Enough was enough. He tortured her in her dreams with fulfilled sexual tension and mind puzzles, expecting something back off her.  
  
"Jareth."  
  
***  
  
In his gritty castle Jareth smirked. She was playing exactly into his hands. Soon she'd be more than pliable. He'd have his pride avenged with no side affects.  
  
***  
  
Sarah screamed with frustration as he just kept /staring/ with a malignant tone to his glare. She could imagine his eyes...  
  
She physically shook herself and snapped the CD back on to prepare herself for the Hollywood party. Dare she take a shower?  
  
***  
  
Hours later she was glad she'd risked a shower under Jareths all consuming eye. The smog had burned off, leaving LA's barren landscape scorched. It made her feel bright and chirppy, which she could see, was grating some of her co-stars nerves.  
  
With an inner mocking smile Sarah thought /who would have thought that anti- social Sarah Williams would be one of the fastest rising stars and looked like she was here to stay?/ Of course what no one else knew was she had a pissed off Goblin King stalking her.  
  
  
  
Yup, she was /something/ special.  
  
She gave the poor bloke trying to chat her up an uninterested meaningless smile and drifted off to the buffet, feed up of talking on aching feet. Arr, to have the cheese on sticks or the cheese on plates?  
  
"I wouldn't bother with the cheese at all."  
  
Sarah stiffened and bridled at the familiar mocking tones, in an exaggerated British accent.  
  
"What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" she ground out.  
  
"Why, enjoying the party, /Sarah/" he breathed it down her neck, although he was a few feet away. "Have a nice time." And he was gone. Sarah cursed, she should have used the opportunity to bitch about being spied on, but no, to caught up in his eyes. She vaguely wondered why no one was staring at him. He was after all vaguely conspicuous with his eighties look and mad hair.  
  
Her suspicions of her being the only one to see him where confirmed, as people seemed to ignore him, and dazedly stagger away from his area of space. He meet her gaze from across the room and smirked.  
  
/That's getting very unoriginal/ Sarah thought, /what's he up to?/  
  
The stare in the centre of her back stayed all the way into the early hours when Sarah carefully manoeuvred her tipsy body into the back of the limousine with belying grace and sank gratefully into the leather upholstery. A quickly murmured conversation later and she was safely on her way to bed.  
  
She was pooped, to put it mildly.  
  
She must have drifted off, for when the car stopped she heard a voice saying, no /commanding/ the driver to let her sleep. She felt herself be deftly scooped up and carried. She couldn't make herself wake up, even the alarm unfurling in the snake pit that her stomach had been transformed into couldn't make her heavy eyelids open.  
  
When Sarah was next aware of her surroundings she was in her bed. The stylish red sheets that in turn clashed and blended with the decor where carefully wrapped around her. She didn't' remember last night, and put her wooziness down to drink.  
  
She staggered naked out to her bathroom and ran into Jareth eyeing her suggestively. She pointedly ignored him till she had taken aspirin and brushed her teeth. Safely wrapped in a dressing gown she sank down to a cup of steaming coffee. When she was half way down her cup she decided that he had been a hallucination till the unwanted thought of where the coffee had come from rose unbidden from somewhere in her suffering head.  
  
She pried her eyes open and attempted to glare at Jareth's smug face and interesting eyebrows.  
  
"Get out." Her voice was dead pan, listless. He had her at a disadvantage, and he knew it.  
  
"No. But I have a hang over cure for you, since you mortals are susceptible to drink."  
  
She brightened, she really shouldn't take anything he offered her, but she had such a bad head. What could it hurt? "What's the catch?" she managed to crank out.  
  
He didn't answer, just handed her a steaming goblet. She regarded it suspiciously. "And what is in /that/?"  
  
As he said, "things to make your head better" her headache came back full force. She gulped the scalding liquid down and soon fell into a dreamless, sleepless daze.  
  
Jareth caught her half-naked form easily. "I thought better of you than that." He told her, knowing she'd be able to hear him, but not respond. "But I can give you a 'Place for Your Head' like no other."  
  
In a whirl of glitter the apartment stood empty, awaiting the mortal's futile attempts to find her, trace her till the police gave up and left it to the dust and grime of obsessive fans.  
  
They didn't have her. He did. He'd make her pay, he'd have his revenge.  
  
***  
  
Well do you like? So thank you, thank you to everyone who's ever reviewed. This is just for yous ;) 


	3. Chapter 3.

Detective Storr sighed. He hated his job at times like these. Another 'star' of Hollywood had gone missing. Millions of her fans and obsessers where milling outside of the tape, trying to get in, not aiding their search for the missing presumed dead Sarah Williams. It was unlikely that they'd find her alive.  
  
She didn't leave many clues as to who had 'done it' either. She had no people that it was known had a reason to hate her, she /had/ had excessive alcohol the night before and could have wandered off, but the limousine driver had sworn he'd seen her to the door as she was swaying a bit.  
  
Sarah Williams seemed like a good girl. No drugs, no self-mutilation and no suicide. Not even one person that could have had a good agenda for murder, unless it was an obsessed fan.  
  
Nothing had been found in her room. Just her clothes, a few personal items, some obviously hanging over from her childhood. Nothing had been out of place. An unwashed coffee cup on the table, newspaper in the appropriate place. Just a medieval goblet with frankly ugly and frightening designs on carved into the soft metal. The traces of the liquid that had been found and tested hadn't been useful either. Unclassified it had been, nothing had matched or even been similar to it, no one had never seen anything like it.  
  
/Just what I need/, Storr thought, /hocus pocus/. There wasn't even a sign of struggle. She had disappeared as though the Irish Fair Folk had claimed her. Apparently as a child she'd always been distant. Perhaps that had been it. Like the guy who had travelled to Scotland because of some obsessive role-playing thing. And she had never, reportedly got on well with her stepmother.  
  
Food for thought.  
  
With a sigh the Detective shut the door on the dusty, faded apartment.  
  
***  
  
Sarah woke up in bed and panicked.  
  
That was not her ceiling. This was not her bed. It was not her room. She sat blot upright to see a smirking Goblin King. "Really Sarah, I had thought better of that from you."  
  
What did he mean? Her confusion must have shown on her face, as he laughed outright. She felt the laughter shiver down her spine, into her most intimate parts of her body. She couldn't hide the shudder that the wondrous sound caused.  
  
"You're mine." He stated. "And you're staying here."  
  
Sarah had really had it. "Really."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"How come?" Sarah was definitely pissed off now.  
  
"You drank of the Potion in the Cup. That's how. You are mine, forever to stay in the Underground."  
  
"How did I manage that?" Sarah asked anyone that was listening. She frowned, remembering a little of when he had come. "You! You tricked me! You said it was for my head!"  
  
Jareth just tsk tsked her. "You should know by now not to accept things off strangers." He grinned unpleasantly. "And it /is/ a hangover cure."  
  
Sarah screamed and hid back under the covers. "I can't take this!" she moaned.  
  
Jareth looked startled then amused at her reaction. He was contemplating joining her under the covers when she sat back up, wearily. "Send me back!" She still managed to put force behind her words.  
  
"No."  
  
"/Why?/" she demanded.  
  
"Revenge." He saw the fear flow through her eyes, and enter her body. He could see the defeat as she realised there was no escape. He hoped he hadn't broken her too soon...  
  
"And I was told I was childish." She muttered to herself. Louder she demanded "Don't you know by now? The bad guy always looses. You have no power over me! Now send me back!"  
  
"Now who is going round in circles?"  
  
"You're the one that won't send me back!"  
  
"True. And I never will." His voice was as cold as his blazing glacier eyes. No emotion, no feeling. Just was. "You after all deserve it by your own conduct of honour."  
  
/Your eyes can be so cruel  
  
Just as I can be so cruel/  
  
"What?" Sarah frowned in puzzlement. If she didn't understand, she wouldn't be able to escape.  
  
Jareth savoured her confusion. "I shall leave you to dress, my prize."  
  
He left, leaving her to scream futilely "I am not yours!" She would soon learn. They all did. It was not possible for the Goblin King to loose. He always gained something, and he would gain her!  
  
***  
  
another chapter for you wonderful people to enjoy. :) I don't think I'll be doing anymore of this, unless someone gives me a wonderful idea of what to happen next *hopeful look* but I have other stories you could read... and maybe review... (Shameless self-promotion) Or you could read StarlitAngel64 fics. (Again, that was for me. If she's happy, I might get to borrow her muse :)) 


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